Mercy
by DC111
Summary: "L-listen… hear me…!" the Abysswalker cried as I struggled fruitlessly. But somewhere in grotesque, tortured layers composing the sounds, I heard what must have been his true voice. "Please warrior, I beg thee…" Slowly I wrapped my mind around the possibility this moment could turn out differently than a nightmare. Something was different. I took a shaky breath. "Knight Artorias?"


Ah, hello. :)

This short story takes place right toward the end of the fight with the legendary Abysswalker. Learning his fate cracked my heart, and hearing the cut content broke it. This was inspired by both. Quite simply, I wanted to do justice to what I believe to have been a very deserving character. Not that the game didn't – it's just that, like with everything else, Dark Souls leaves much left unspoken. So, I wanted to capture what Artorias likely would have said to the Chosen Undead, if he had still had any grasp on himself by the time we encounter him.

Mercy

Artorias was charging at me again

Exhausted, injured, and with my back near the wall, it was all I could do to hide behind my shield and dodge. His left arm dangled unnaturally, and his steps were becoming more and more uneven. It should have been reassuring but it just made him seem more unpredictable.

I sidestepped out of the way but he anticipated it. With horror I saw his weight shift toward me, and with no room left to back up, he grasped my shield in one powerful hand and tore it away.

He was on me in a second. On instinct I lit a fire in my palm. It ignited in his face and he howled in agony, but didn't relinquish his grip on me. His cold, armored hand grasped my shoulder too tightly and he drove me into the ground. He pinned me there with his knees, his good hand clutched around his weapon.

It was over. Pitifully, I raised my palms to him, letting him know victory was his. I knew victory meant nothing to this destroyed soul anymore, but I was staring ravaged horror in the face… I was going to try anything.

Kill me or don't, I willed. But nothing in between. I would've rather risked another death, another step closer to Hollowing, than get violated by the hellish Abyss.

"Please…"

The single word, low and hoarse, sounded almost inhuman. Far away. At first I didn't know if I had heard correctly, or if it was just a primal moan that I had made out to be a plea. Was he… coherent?

"_Please!_" His hand tightened around his greatsword and he raised it into the air, then plowed it deep into the earth. That voice was the very epitome of suffering. It was as though his violent motions with the sword were an outlet for that internal anguish. It was utterly horrifying – to say nothing of the terror I felt at being pinned helplessly beneath this corrupt creature. "L-listen… hear me…!"

Still I struggled against him, fruitlessly. But somewhere in grotesque, tortured layers composing the sounds, I heard what must have been his true voice.

"Please… warrior, I beg… I beg thee…"

Slowly I wrapped my mind around the possibility this moment could turn out differently than a nightmare. Something was different... I took a shaky breath. "Knight Artorias?"

It sounded like he was about to say something in response, but the words gurgled deep in his throat. An instant passed in silence. Then he threw his head back and screamed into the sky, a scream that was not entirely his own – the sound was not one a human should make, carrying an otherworldly quality that chilled me to the core.

When he looked back down at me, he was inches from my face, chest heaving. He was so close I could hear the phlegmy, raspy breaths going in and out of him. My eyes watered and I knew that if I didn't end up taken over by the Abyss too, I would remember this harrowing fight vividly for the rest of my life.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing only to block him out. "Artorias, you have won… have mercy!"

Little shame washed over me for my pleading, for I knew that no soul would fault me for it, if they experienced what I was experiencing now. I was staring into the darkness of something worse than hell.

He shuddered. "No… listen… brave warrior…"

Listen. Again. Was he luring me into the twisted darkness? But what if his words were my only chance…? I looked up at him, at the faded blue hiding his face. My ribs ached under the weight of his knee. With as much strength as I dared, I opened my mouth. "Speak… I am listening."

"Please, the Abyss… the spread of the Abyss… must be stopped…" His broken, altered voice made me sick to my stomach. But the words themselves – they spoke of the knight that I had heard about before arriving in this time. They rang true of the legends I knew of this supposedly unbreakable hero…

His demeanor was one of tension, like he was holding back the ruthlessness, like he was trying to stave it off. It was as though there was more than one version of him within the swirling darkness, some trying to swallow me whole, longing for my screams… one reaching out of the blackness, fighting it at every turn.

"Artorias," I said again, trying to put forth a little more authority. "You… you are speaking to me, you are speaking your own words… you can still fight it, the darkness, you can still escape this torment…"

He grunted; an awful, awful sound that seemed a cross between a cry and a cough. "No, friend… th-this is all of Artorias that there is left… memories are gone, past is gone, life is gone… everything gone, devoured by the Abyss… All that is left, my most heartfelt goal… to end the spread… this must not go on, I beseech thee…"

Artorias pushed himself away with an immense effort. The pressure on my ribs let up and I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could. Immediately I felt a head rush and leaned back against the wall. Of no help was the disfigured corpse off to my right, the one Artorias had brutally stabbed earlier. It looked like it was still bleeding, and its stench flooded my nose.

The broken knight approached me again but I dared not move. Without being crouched down in a battle stance, it was clear how tall he was. I didn't know if that was natural or if the Abyss had altered his body, too.

His urgency, his drive… it brought Solaire to mind. A man I knew much better than this victim of the Abyss. A man who had a sincere goal and unwavering passion to fight for it. I recognized that now in Artorias. The Abyss was still taking him over; everything about him would be gone soon enough. But it said something that what little was left now was of a noble, selfless desire.

"Please, please…!" He wailed again, his voice pushing through the thick layers of darkness. "Let me pass knowing that there is a chance… 'tis all I ask of thee…"

And it resonated deep inside me, touched the core of my spirit, hearing this man beg for hope, for something good to take with him to his grave… Tears filled my eyes now not with fear, but heartbreak. "I will find a way," I vowed, voice still shaking. "I will do what I can to fulfil your purpose, or to find someone who can."

His entire being seemed to collapse – a rush of relief in a world of pain. "I am eternally indebted to thee… if my suffering may convey the importance of halting the Abyss, then I have not suffered in vain. But… forgive me for passing on such a burdensome torch…"

Indeed, if I had known a few weeks ago that this is where I would be, I would never have kept that pendant… I would never have ventured that deep into the Darkroot Basin. But now that I had, I could not help the aching need in my chest to make this poor soul's fate mean something. Now, walking away with this memory, this knowledge, would be far more burdensome to me than trying to finish what Artorias had started.

Or at least… that was how I saw it now. If Artorias was anything to go by, should I succumb to the Abyss, nothing could match the level of burden and torment that awaited me. But that was not where my mind was right then.

The sense of purpose would keep me from going Hollow. It would give me something palpable and worthwhile to fight for. In my own time, the prophecy was so vague, and held so much gray area, that I often did not think it was worth it to continue on. But this… any cause that I could recognize as noble was a treasure to be cherished, and Artorias's cause was. That balanced the threat of darkness, as far as I was concerned – at least for that moment. And right now, that was all that mattered.

"You needn't be forgiven, for you have done nothing wrong. You have acted sacrificially and valiantly." I swallowed a knot in my throat, remembering the legends of courage and benevolence and willpower surrounding this man, and seeing the sliver of truth that resided in those legends after all. "I would be honored to carry the torch forward."

"Honored… hm," Artorias let out a laugh that sounded almost like a sob. "I fear thee is mistaking honor for pity. There is nothing within me worth honoring."

"If that were the case, then you would not have been able to share your cause with me at all."

"Rrgh…" he groaned, his head twitching as he struggled. "Well… if someone such as thou seest me in that regard, then who am I to question? I thank thee for the grace… but if I could ask of thee one more favor…"

"What is it?"

Artorias of the Abyss dropped his greatsword and lowered himself to his knees. Immediately I understood what he was asking of me.

Without saying a word, I approached him and pulled back the tattered veil of blue on his helm, revealing his face. Dark hair framed olive skin wrecked with scars and creases that didn't belong on such a young complexion. There were shadows underneath his azure eyes, dark as bruises.

I will never know what overcame me, but I reached out and stroked his damaged face with one hand, to give him one last glimpse of comfort in this life. He closed his eyes, and for a single moment, looked peaceful. Then he opened them, locking onto me with urgency. His body quivered. "I can feel the dark pulling… Please, friend, so I can die with a piece of myself intact… and so I do not pose a further threat."

Hot tears escaped down my cheeks and I nodded. It was perhaps a miracle but I was not afraid of him anymore. I had gone from feeling utterly traumatized, and more deeply afraid than should be possible, to harboring nothing but love and mercy for this brave, broken soul.

I took the dagger out of my satchel.

Being marked with the Darksign, I had died many a time in Lordran. I knew how to make death as swift and painless as possible. Taking a breath, I stepped around behind him and caressed his head with my free hand.

He bowed his head slightly as I snaked my other arm around front and rested the cool blade against his flesh. I bit my lip and drew in a deep breath, hearing him do the same – the breath that would be his last.

"Rest peacefully… Sir Artorias."

1-1-1

Oh, Artorias. Poor fellow. :/ Well… I hope this left a little less to be desired than his death in the game did – for me, anyway. Since I am working a longer, Solaire-centered Dark Souls story at the moment (the beginning of which is posted), this Chosen Undead is the same as that one in my headcanon, hence the Solaire reference. Though it fits regardless – what Chosen Undead hasn't encountered sunbro, after all? Anyway, if you're looking for more Dark Souls fanfiction, I will be posting more in the near future. Thanks for reading!


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